


An Unexpected Voyage

by Madiedoodle



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Shipwrecked, Bilbo Baggins has spent his whole life on a deserted island, Deserted Island Fic, Everybody Lives, M/M, Thorin Oakenshield is a bad navigator, and that requires a bit of adventuring, its quite a nice island actually, not a desert island mind you but a deserted island, they've gotta retake Thorins kingdom though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-06 23:12:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4240266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madiedoodle/pseuds/Madiedoodle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo Baggins and his parents had been shipwrecked on a deserted island at a very young age, and since his parents death he has been living alone on his lonely island. But after a big storm, strangers begin to wash up on shore, including one king, two princes, a scribe, multiple warriors, and a wizard? Bilbo Baggins had fully expected to live the rest of his days alone on his very cozy island, but maybe the gods have another idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Unexpected Landing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo, our poor little island boy, meets all of the Company

On a deserted island in the middle of the Great Ocean, there lived a young man. Not a dry, arid, hot desert island, covered with nothing but sand and and the occasional scrub bush, nor yet a tropical, wet island with too many bugs and no way to escape the humidity: it was a temperate island, and that means comfort. Or as much comfort as a deserted island can offer, that is. It was a rather round island, covered in greenery, with a beautiful sandy beach all down around the edge. The forests were lush, teaming with different types of flora and fauna, from cedar, scotch heather, heath, and wildberry trees to migrating birds of all types, as well as wild rabbit and hedgehog. The forests stretched on and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the side of the beach. The island was not very wide, but also not very narrow, taking only a few hours walk to get from one side to the other. It wasn’t quite a long island either, though it had a number of hills and valleys in between each end, and a beautiful clear lagoon straight down the to the center of the island. The best part of the island was to the west, where the trees shaded from the sun best and the sunsets were the most vibrant. And that is where the young man kept his house, overlooking the wide, empty ocean and the long empty beach. It was a very well put together house, for a very well put together man and his name was Bilbo Baggins. His parents had built the small shelter on that beach years before when they had landed on the island, and Bilbo was proud of it. There wasn’t much to do on the island, not like the things that his parents had told him about, but he was perfectly content, in which there was nothing unexpected to cause a fuss in his day to day. 

This is the story of how a young man went on an adventure, found himself seeing and doing things all together new and unexpected. The parents of this young man had seen and done these things during their lifetime, but Bilbo had been much too young to be afforded the opportunity for true adventure. It had not even been an adventure that had brought them to their lovely island, but a mere accident, a twist of fate and poor navigation that had thrown their small ship to the rocks, and luck that had brought the three of them to these friendly shores. Their supplies had been lost along with the crew, and they had nothing but the clothes on their back and some scraps that had washed up on shore. Their shoes soon became unusable, but they soon began to live a comfortable lifestyle, together on their island. They learned to gather food, hunt, and find drinking water, and they became part of the land that they lived on. Belladonna Baggins(nee Took) was queen of the island, friend of the animals, and their saving grace on this island. Mr. Baggins, not as skilled as his dear wife in the ways of living, took care of a young Bilbo until he was old enough to roam the forests with his mother. And they lived happily in that way, until the Fell Winter took place, and the older members of the Baggins family died of the cold. At that was the end of the comforting family dinners, the stories of adventures and cities and life, and all that was left for Bilbo was the island. 

And Bilbo had contented himself with his island, and his memories, until one day something unexpected happened. It wasn’t the storm that was unexpected, mind you, as it was storm season, but the things the storm brought with it that changed young Bilbos life. A day much like every other, following a night filled with a summer storm, found Bilbo wandering the beach, observing the usual clutter that was brought in by the wind and the waves. But what he found was rather more interesting than the usual seashells and ocean life. Lying on the beach was what looked to be a rather tall man. Bilbo rubbed his eyes, looking again to see if his eyes were deceiving him, but his vision appeared to be holding true. He immediately sprang forward, bare feet flying down the sand as he made it towards the strangers side. He was old, much older than Bilbos parents had been, with a long white beard,a long grey gown, and heavy black boots. Bilbo held his breath as he checked the mans pulse, hoping against all hopes that the man would be alive. After a few long moments he found signs of life, and soon Bilbo was sitting back on his heels, trying to figure out what to do next. The stranger wasn’t visibly injured, no wounds or blood to be seen on his person or the sand surrounding him. Bilbo looked around frantically, about to get up to find supplies, but the man moved before he could get very far. The man in grey sat up, looking around the beach until his eyes came to rest on Bilbo. 

Bilbo spoke first, the words “Good morning” falling from his lips unbidden, and it wasn’t as if he had anything else to say. And it was a rather fine morning, and he may as well bring it to the strangers attention. The man looked bewildered for a moment, before an amused glint came to his eyes. 

“I suppose it could be a rather fine morning, from some perspective. But unfortunately my dear fellow, I have not had such a good morning. Would you happen to be able to tell me where I am?” the man asked, in a voice that Belladonna would have described as merry and grandfatherly. 

“You are on my island, almost directly on my front step! And its a miracle you made it to shore in those boots! They must way enough to drag you right to the bottom! However did you get here, anyways?” Bilbo asked, wringing his hands nervously. His voice was rusty from disuse, and it was strange to hear himself speaking in anything other than a random song. 

“ The ship I was on was wrecked in a storm, but I hadn’t seen any land nearby. Tell me, what country are we in now? It cannot be England, we were nowhere near there, but yet you speak the Kings English.” the man responded, the same look of bewilderment falling across his features once more. By this time he had stood up, leaning on a nearby stick and gazing down at Bilbo.

“I’m sorry to tell you but this is no country. Just an island, an uncharted one I imagine. No one but I have been here for many years, and no one but my parents for many years before that. Not even a ship has passed by in all that time. England is where my parents and I are from, though I have spent quite a few more years here than I ever did there.” he said hesitantly, though now his voice was coming back stronger, he was unsure of how to proceed. He now had a stranger on his island, and no where to put him. After a few moments deliberation he looked towards his home and then back at the man. “I’m Bilbo Baggins, and welcome to my island. I have food and water if you need it, and a place you can sleep.” 

“Thank you Mr. Baggins. I’m Gandalf Grayman. You wouldn’t happen to be of relation to a Mr Bungo and Mrs. Belladonna Baggins, would you?” he asked, to Bilbos shock.

“Yes actually, they were my parents. Did you know them?” he wasn’t quite sure what to think of the situation. The chances of this man knowing his parents was minuscule, and that he would wash up on this remote island was even more slight. 

“I knew your mother quite well, actually. She accompanied me on quite a few adventures, before the accident. I was sure she had perished, but I shouldn’t be surprised that that is not the case. Now, my dead Bilbo, about that food? I am rather famished.” Gandalf said, spurring Bilbo into action.

“Oh yes of course, this way.” he said, walking back towards his house. It had started out as a shack but by now could be considered more of a hut, through the years of work Bilbo had put into it. The roof was a bit low for the much taller Gandalf, but they fit quite comfortably inside. Once inside he brought out some of the dried fruit, handing it over to Gandalf before returning outside in search of fish. He soon returned, putting the freshly caught fish over the fire, giving him the opportunity to further examine Gandalf. The fact that there was another person in his home was disconcerting, and he found he didn’t really have very much to say. He hadn’t ever expected to meet another person, and was not prepared for this eventuality. 

Soon he had the fish cooked, and Gandalf ate ravenously, although momentarily hesitant to eat with just his hands. Once he was done eating, he reaffixed his gaze on Bilbo. “So, Bilbo Baggins, would you mind too terribly showing me around this island of yours? I’m curious to know about the place I’ve landed on.” he said, as he picked at the bones of the fish. 

“Of course, there are still plenty of hours before the sun goes down. We can make it the whole way around before it gets dark, be back in time for supper. Are you up for walking though? You probably took a nasty tumble before you washed up here.”

“Yes I’m fine, nothing a bit of a stroll won’t settle. Lead on Master Baggins.” Gandalf said, and with that they were out the door of the hut and on their way down the beach. The storm clutter had already started to wash away as the tides began to creep back in, and it wouldn’t be long before the shores were clear again. As they walked, Gandalf asked about various plants and animals, apparently curious about everything they saw. “Quite a beautiful place you have here. Its a shame its uncharted, but maybe its for the better. No human clutter to muck up the nature of it. Speaking of human clutter though, does that look like a person?” 

Bilbo looked farther down the beach, and spotted a distinctly person shaped lump lying in the sand. “In all my days, and suddenly I have two visitors all in one.” he mumbled as he ran towards the figure. He stopped short as he rolled the man over and got a better look at him, as he looked angry even while unconscious. His hesitation was short lived, as he got down to check the newcomers pulse. Gandalf was soon beside him, giving a hearty chuckle. “That would be Dwalin Fundinson, the ships second in command. I’m glad to see him alive, gives me hope for the others.” Gandalf said, moving to sit beside Bilbo.  
“Exactly how many people did you have on this ship?” Bilbo asked, not looking away from the man in front of him.

“Besides me, thirteen people were aboard that ship.” he replied, and Bilbo didn’t know how to respond, so just continued with his examination. His poking and prodding seemed to rouse the man, who immediately sat up, nearly knocking heads with Bilbo. Much like Gandalf, Dwalin looked around before his eyes focused on the people nearby. 

“Well bless my beard, if it isn’t Gandalf. Where is it we’ve gotten off to?” Dwalin said, his voice low and gravely, and Bilbo found him frankly frightening. 

“Good to see you alive and well Dwalin. It seems we’re on an uncharted island, belonging to this fellow here.” Gandalf said, placing a hand on Bilbo’s shoulder. 

“Dwalin Fundinson, at your service.” Dwalin said, tilting his head down in a sort of bow.

“Bilbo Baggins, at yours.” he replied, mimicking the gesture. After a moments thought he turned to Gandalf. “Gandalf, why don’t you bring him to my home, and I’ll look for more survivors. It wouldn’t do to have these poor people wandering the woods when there’s a perfectly good place for them to stay.” he said, turning back to look down the rest of the beach. He saw Gandalf nod as Dwalin stood up, and with that they began to head in opposite directions. 

His walk gave him time to ponder these new developments. Not one, but at least two new people in one day, with the possibility of twelve more. It was unimaginable, incredible, and so absurd that Bilbo had to wonder if he was dreaming. That maybe he was the one washed out in the storm, and now hallucinating. But no, it was all too real as he turned back, he could see Gandalf and Dwalin from here. It was much to vivid to be a dream, and much to remote for his mind to have made up on its own. 

He didn’t see the third person until he was almost upon him. Another older fellow sat before him, perched upon what looked to be a large piece of wood. The man turned to him, a look of surprise on his face, before quickly standing up. “Well hello! I’m Balin Fundinson, at your service.” he said, with the same gesture as Dwalin had made.

“Bilbo Baggins, at yours. Fundinson, then? I believe I just met your brother, a man by the name of Dwalin.” Bilbo replied, gesturing over his shoulder towards where Gandalf and Dwalin had gone.

“Dwalin survived? Well Mahals beard, what a stroke of luck. Where is it we’ve landed, pray tell? Can’t be India, wrong sea entirely.”Balin said, looking once again at his surroundings. 

“You’ve landed nowhere in particular, an uncharted island. I call it Bag End, and its my home. You’re welcome to it, though. I’m to look for more survivors, but you can find your brother and a man by the name of Gandalf back that way. You’ll see the hut on your right.” Bilbo said, pointing back down the beach as he spoke. Balin nodded his thanks and with that Bilbo was on his way again. 

He heard them well before he saw them. Two rather loud voices drifted over the crashing of the waves, and Bilbo picked up his pace. The owners of the voices quickly came into view. Two young men sat under what looked to be a small boat tilted to one side. Their loud voices immediately stopped when they spotted Bilbo, and they were soon on their feet. 

“I’m Fili-”  
“and I’m Kili”  
“-at your service” the strange duo said, an odd jumble of voices that left him unsure of exactly which one of them had been speaking. 

“Bilbo Baggins, at yours. You’ve landed on an uncharted island, I’m the only one who lives here. Back that way down the beach you can find two fellows by the name of Dwalin and Balin, and an old man by the name Gandalf. I’m on my way to search for more of your crew.” Bilbo said quickly, answering the obvious questions. The two brothers looked at him in startled wonder for a moment, before amusement took over.

“Well, Mr Boggins-”  
“We will help you in search of our crew!” they said, taking hold of each of his shoulders. If talking to people was weird, touching people was even more surreal. But he was quickly being dragged down the beach, in the distinctly wrong direction, and was forced to stop them.

“Hold on, hold on, hold on, I am going to other way.” he said, flailing his arms and dragging his feet. The two stopped, nearly sending him flying, before turning right around.

“Alright Mr. Boggins!”  
“Lead on!”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Bilbo’s home was soon filled with hungry sailors, and he frantically flitted about to gather enough food for all of them. He decided that focusing on food was easier than the thirteen strangers in his living space, and threw himself wholly into his task. Coming back into the hut, he was hit by a wall of voices that were shockingly loud. Shouting and laughter, sounds he hadn’t heard in years, and never this loud. 

Entering the hut, he nearly tripped over Gloin, who had bodily thrown himself in front of the door in an effort to catch some sort of food in his mouth. Bilbo shook his head and hopped over him, setting the food down in the center of the room and then quickly retreating. Hours of walking with Fili and Kili had found eight more members of the crew, all crowded in a life boat and debating who they should eat first. At that point, Bilbo and the boys had gone almost full circle around the island, and with no sign of the apparent Captain of the crew they soon made it back to Bilbo’s little hut. And now he had a house full of hungry guests, and no idea how to handle it. But they seemed to do well enough on their own for entertainment, and so he decided to go for a walk to clear his head. 

The lagoon at the center of his island was beautiful, and well sheltered. The little river that fed water from the ocean to the lagoon made it more of a lake than a lagoon, and many hot springs surrounded it. The lagoon had been his mothers favorite spot on the island, and he kept a small garden there in her honor. Nothing spectacular, just pretty groupings of island flowers, but it was all he had left of her. 

Bilbo had just sat down to pull some weeds from the garden when he heard loud splashing from the lagoon. Expecting a rogue sea-lion or dolphin he started towards the water, only to find another man, completely tangled in what looked to be a sail, and hanging partially upside down. It was a comical sight as the man struggled to escape, and Bilbo figured this must be the missing captain. “Hello sir, would you like some help?” he called, and the man immediately stopped moving. The lack of motion seemed to do the trick, and the man had soon tumbled straight to the ground, completely free of the sail. Bilbo held back a laugh as the man stood up, and the laughter died quickly when he saw the look on the newcomers face.

If an expression had ever matched that of a storm, this one did, and Bilbo was hard pressed not to run away then and there. As it was, he started to ramble instead. “Well I suppose you’re the captain. I found the rest of your crew all along my beach, they’re back at my hut if you wish to see them. Now that I’ve found you then that should be everybody, not that its much help since you’re about as trapped as I am on this island, but no matter, there’s plenty of food for all of you, but you’ll have to build your own shelters because unfortunately mine’s not nearly large enough to fit all fourteen of you and-” he himself off, taking a deep breathe to slow himself down. The man hadn’t moved, but his expression was slightly less frightening, so Bilbo decided to start again. “Bilbo Baggins, at your service. I have the rest of your crew back at my house, I can take you to them.” 

“Thorin Durin, at yours. What island is this, exactly?”

“I call it Bag End, but it’s uncharted, no ones been here before.” he replied, and with that the man looked utterly crestfallen.

“An uncharted island. No ship. What a mess I’ve gotten us into.” Thorin muttered, before walking off to lord knows where.

“Excuse me, but you’re going the exact wrong way. Your crew is this way, if you want me to show you.” Bilbo shouted, pointing through the trees towards his hut. Thorin stopped and turned around, motioning for Bilbo to lead on. They were soon to the hut, the walk having been passed in complete silence, and Thorin entering the hut was met with hearty cheers. By now the sun was starting to set, so Bilbo entered his home and found a seat for himself, content to watch the interaction between these new men. They seemed to be plotting ways to get off the island and continue with their original journey. The members of the crew that he found in the lifeboat were the most vocal, discussing building a raft or a new ship, with Fili and Kili interjecting that someone would come looking for them at some time or other. It was all rather silly, from Bilbo’s perspective, but he didn’t see it as his place to tell them.

“We could chop some of these trees down, lash ‘em together, make a raft that'd be rather sea worthy.” the one called Bofur said, gesturing widely with his hands as he spoke.

“The trouble is, we don’t have a clue where it is we are! Headin’ in any direction, we’ve no idea how long it’d take to reach a land we know!” Nori countered, and with that the crew quieted down quickly. 

“What’re we going to do?” Ori asked. Bilbo figured he was one of the youngest, and he seemed to be the most scared out of the group. 

Thorin stood up, drawing the attention of everyone. “We are going to get off this island, one way or the other. We cannot, we will not, sit here complacently on some little island. We have skills, and we will use them.” he said, his voice deep and commanding. To Bilbo, he looked like one of the heroes from his mothers tales, cutting a sharp figure against the rough walls of the hut. Heroic words of encouragement and triumph almost seemed believable coming from the captain, and it was no wonder these men followed him through whatever journey they were undertaking. As the silence continued, it was finally Gandalf who turned to Bilbo.

“Mr. Baggins, we would be much obliged if you would let us stay here until we can find a way off your island and out of your hair.” he said, and now the whole company was looking at him.

“Of course, of course, what’s mine is yours. I don’t know how you expect to get off this island though.” he added the last part and immediately regretted it, as the thunderous look returned to Captain Thorin's face. Bilbo had to stop himself from shrinking away, standing his ground within his own home. He knew this island better than they ever would, and knew very well that trying to escape was a ludicrous adventure. But something in the captains eyes told him that no matter what he said, they would succeed anyways. 

“We will manage, thank you. No need to worry yourself. Tomorrow we will build our own shelters and be out of your hair entirely.” he said, and turned away from Bilbo entirely, now talking to Dwalin in hushed tones. Bilbo sighed, berating himself for saying anything. He knew his social skills were rusty, and now he’d just offended the only human contact he had had in years. The rest of the night past in quiet conversation between the crew members, until they raised their voices in a quiet song before calling it a night. Despite all of Bilbos efforts, sleep soon found him, as he drifted off to the sound of the loud snores of his new companions.


	2. Roast Fish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Company tries to strike out on their own, but quickly discover that they're going to need the help of Bilbo Baggins if they're ever going to survive, let alone escape the island

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had quite a bit of trouble with the spacing, and I'm currently working on fixing it, sorry for the inconvenience.

Bilbo woke up to an empty hut, and for a heart stopping moment he thought he had dreamed the whole thing. It wasn’t until he heard the distant sounds of shouting and crashing that he realized his new guests had just left his hut. As he stepped outside he found Gandalf sitting next to the doorway, his back rested on the side of the wall. “Good morning, Master Baggins.” he said, a glint of humor in his eyes.

“Good morning Mister Gandalf. Where have the others gotten off to?” he inquired, hearing the other men but not seeing them anywhere along the beach.

“I expect they’ve gone off in an attempt to build their own shelters.” Gandalf replied, nodding his head in the direction a majority of the sound was coming from. Bilbo huffed, shaking his head at the amount of unneeded noise the group produced.  
 “By now they’re never going to get any food, scaring off the animals like that. Have they even had breakfast yet? It wouldn’t do to have them starve to death when I have perfectly good food here.” he said, fussing with the hem of his shirt as he spoke.

“As far as I know they haven’t eaten, although I did steal some of that lovely dried fruit, I hope you don’t mind.” Gandalf replied, rising to his feet. “We should probably check on them, make sure they haven’t gotten into too much trouble. I think you will be a very important part of their survival, even if they don’t see it themselves yet.” he continued, and with that one ominous statement he was off down the beach. Bilbo rolled his eyes, exasperated already by the eccentric behavior of the old man. But he followed Gandalf down the beach and into the forest until they came upon the “camp”, if one could call it that. 

Piles of scrap wood lay everywhere about the clearing, and it took Bilbo a moment to notice that they were in the lagoon clearing, and that there was scrap wood crushing parts of his garden. With an appalled squeak he launched himself forward and into the garden, throwing the wood and other garbage off of his poor plants. The commotion behind him slowly started to die down, but he didn’t notice as he examined each plant. With a final huff and sigh of relief he stood up, satisfied that none of his plants were beyond repair, and came face to face with the entire crew. They all stared at him in various states of incredulity, but he ignored them as his anger rose. 

“You cannot just come into someone’s home and destroy their things, thank you very much. As long as you’re here you will mind your manners, and you will not touch my garden.” he said, and with that he stomped off towards his hut. “Of all the nerve these people had, going around and destroying his things. He had a perfectly good home right here that they could stay in but no, they just had to go off and chop down the forest to build themselves one! I expected other people to have more manners than this!” he grumbled, passing easily through the forest on his way home. He could hear loud scampering behind him, but chose to ignore it as he made his way onward. 

It wasn’t until hands grabbed his shoulders that he stopped, turning to look at his assailants. Fili and Kili stood before him, bashful looks on their faces as they let go of him. “We’re sorry about your garden!” the golden haired one said, and his brother nodded vigorously.

“We didn’t realize it was a garden!”  
“Thought it was just a bunch of natural flowers!”  
“But we’re sorry for squishing them!” they continued, before bowing once more. Bilbo’s anger deflated at their apology, and he sighed in defeat.

“Alright, alright, all is forgiven. I shouldn’t have yelled like that, it was quite rude of me.” he said, and the boys perked up immediately.

“Great! Fantastic! So, Mr. Boggins, do you think you could help us out with something?” the golden haired one said, slinging an arm around Bilbo’s shoulders.

“But Filiiiii, you said I could ask him!!” the dark haired one, Bilbo figured he must be Kili, complained, and Fili huffed. 

“Fine Kee, you ask him.” By now they had stopped walking, just at the edge of the forest. Bilbo could just barely see his hut, off to the left of them, and he could see someone moving just out front of it. 

“Hold on boys, who is that over by my hut?” he said, taking Fili’s arm off his shoulders and moving towards his home. Fili and Kili gave an exasperate sigh as they followed him, and they were soon by the hut. With no one outside, Bilbo stuck his head in to find Dwalin with all of his food stacked in his arms. “Hey hey hey, wait a moment! You can’t just take that!” he exclaimed, fully entering his hut. Dwalin just grunted at him, exiting the hut and walking swiftly towards the line of trees. “Excuse me! Excuse me sir I don’t know what you think you’re doing but you CANNOT just take that!” he continued, trotting after the large man. 

“Cap’ns orders, laddie.” he said, a bit of regret in his voice, but he kept on going. 

“Brilliant, just brilliant, I’m going to have to have words with your Captain. If he’d just have asked I would’ve been happy to give it to you but now? I should just leave you lot to the birds, they’d be happy to have you! Happier than I am” he rambled angrily, continuing to jog after Dwalin and his stolen goods. 

Dwalin just grunted again, and he could hear Fili and Kili muttering to each other behind them, but he didn’t care, he was furious. He didn’t know if he could be angry with Dwalin for following orders, and so his anger was focused entirely on one person. 

“CAPTAIN DURIN!! Who do you think you are, coming to my island, taking me things?! And sending someone else to do the taking, no less! If you had merely asked I would have been happy to give it to you, but this is crossing a line! This is utterly ridiculous! What do you have to say for yourself?” he half shouted, looking angrily at Thorin the second he came into view. The man in question stopped in his tracks, and the rest of the crew shifted around uncomfortably. Bilbo had barely stopped to take a breathe, before he was off again. “ It doesn’t even matter what you have to say, because you’ve already done it! I don’t know what kind of behavior they teach you out there, but I have to say that it is completely unacceptable! Taking things without asking, like a bunch of wild squirrels! Well, I hope you’re happy with what you’ve got, because I’m certainly not going to help you get more!” he exclaimed finally, turning and stomping away in his second dramatic exit of the morning. 

“You’ve done it now, Thorin.” he heard Balin say, and the quiet thump of Dwalin dropping the supplies, and then he was too far away to hear more. No one followed him as he made his way home, and he was blissfully alone once he was inside. The shelves were completely bare, and all that was left was his bedding. With another angry huff he went back outside, heading to the far end of the island where he gathered most of his food. His angry mutterings didn’t stop the entire walk, and he was certain he had scared off most of the animals on the island. He was certain at this point it didn’t matter, as they would have already been frightened by the obnoxious stomping of the others, as well as they overly loud voices and inconsiderate destroying. It would take forever before things got back to normal, and even then he would still have so much to do. 

It didn’t take long at all for him to gather enough fruit to dry, and he was soon trudging back to his hut, still muttering to himself about the inconsiderate actions of strangers. His hut was still empty when he returned, and he quickly set to wrapping and hanging the fruit to dry. He kept a few fresh berries for a snack, and went to sit out on the beach. 

From his spot on the sand he could see clouds on the horizon, and he knew there would be another storm that night. It wasn’t surprising, and he would have to remember to bring the fruit in before nightfall. He soon began to wonder how the others would fare, but shrugged it off. They would get what they got, they apparently didn’t need his help and he wasn’t about to offer it. Of all the people to land on his island, the most infuriating, rude scoundrels had managed it, and Bilbo’s frustration continued to mount. He could still hear their shouting and banging, even from such great a distance, and it was a wonder that one of the mountain cats hadn’t come calling yet. He wondered how that meeting would go, but quickly perished the thought. They may be infuriating, but he didn’t wish them dead. He shook his head to try to dispell the thoughts, and decided some fishing would help with his dark mood. He would need more fish anyways, since they had taken all of that too. With a huff and a sigh he stood up, heading back to his hut to gather his fishing gear. 

Thankfully his fishing equipment was still intact and in his possession, and he was soon headed back out again. It was starting to feel more like a typical day as he walked down the quiet beach to his usual quiet fishing spot. It was peaceful this far down the island, away from the ruckus, and Bilbo was thankful for it. He began to hum softly to himself as he fished, a song he had made up during his years of solitude. 

“There is an Inn a merry old inn beneath an old grey hill  
And there they brew a beer so brown that the man in the moon himself came down   
One night to drink his fill  
The ostler has a tipsy cat that plays a five string fiddle  And up and down he runs his bow now squeaking high now purring low  Now sawing in the middle  
The landlord keeps a little dog that is mighty fond of jokes  When there's good cheer among the guests he cocks an ear at all the jests  And laughs until he chokes  
They also keep a hornéd cow as proud and any queen  But music turns her head like ale and makes he wave her tufted tail  And dance upon the green  
And O! the rows of silver dishes and the store of silver spoons!  For Sunday there's a special pair and these they polish up with care  On Saturday afternoons” he sang, words and images taught to him by his parents. It had taken him a long time to work out, but he was proud of his song. The man in the moon had been his constant companion through the years, and was happily included in the song.

“The Man in the Moon was drinking deep and the cat began to wail  A dish and a spoon on the table danced the cow in the garden madly pranced  And the little dog chased his tail The Man in the Moon took another mug and then rolled beneath his chair  And there he dozed and dreamed of ale till in the sky the stars were pale  And dawn was in the air”

As he was about to begin the next verse he heard laughing behind him. He turned to see Dwalin and Ori standing behind him, Ori looking perplexed and Dwalin looking amused. 

“That song doesn’t make any sense. Who’s the man on the moon? There aren’t people on the moon.” Ori said quietly, and Dwalin chuckled again. 

“It’s just a song, lad. Nothing to get your braids in a bunch over.” Dwalin said, clapping Ori on the back in a way that would have knocked Bilbo clean over. Bilbo shifted uncomfortably, putting his fishing pole behind his back in an effort to protect it. Dwalin caught the move, and his laughter stopped. “We’re not here to take yer things, laddie. I wish I could say were were here to return it, but cap’ns orders.But we are here to apologize. Thorin can be a bit.....”

“Stubborn? Absorbed? Headstrong? Obstinate? Contrary?” Ori supplied, and Dwalin nodded.

“Yeah, any o’those will do. I’m just sayin’ he's a bit o’a block head, but ‘is hearts in the right place. Sorry for takin’ yer stuff.” Dwalin said, and Bilbo saw that they were sincere. He relaxed, loosening his grip on the fishing rod and smiling slightly. 

“Well, I’m glad at least some of you have manners. Anyways, how is it going at your camp? Hopefully you have your shelter up, we will be getting a storm tonight, and a rather nasty one if the wind has something to say about it.” he said, nodding towards the clouds that gathered steadily on the horizon. Dwalin and Ori seemed to have not noticed the clouds, and Ori became visibly agitated. 

“We haven’t been working on a shelter, just on a ship. We figured we’d be safe enough sleeping outdoors.” Ori said quietly, and Dwalin nodded. Bilbo rolled his eyes. 

“You don’t know anything about this island. There’s a mountain cat that prowls around at night, I call her Lobelia. And its storm season right now, we’ll be getting plenty more, and they’re nothing to bat an eye at. Now I suggest you go back and tell your captain that you need to forget about your ship until you have suitable shelter.” he stated, poor Ori’s eyes widening with each word.

“A mountain cat? Storms? Oh dear oh dear, this is not good at all.” he said, fluttering his hands in anxiety. Dwalin placed a calming hand on his shoulder, nodding in acknowledgment to Bilbo. 

“We’ll go inform Thorin. Thanks for warning us.” he said gruffly, steering Ori back towards where they came. Bilbo shook his head, turning back to his fishing once they had disappeared into the trees. 

“Of all the silly things, they haven’t been building shelters at all. Didn’t even think of the dangers. Of course not, why think of the dangerous things that could happen when you have a ship to build? Silly me, what was I thinking, survival is such a silly notion.” he said quietly as he set the rod back to work. It was a long time before he was calm again, and by then he had a decent enough amount of fish to head back. He gathered his gear and his bucket of fish and headed back home. It was another quiet walk, and he was getting a spring back in his step as he walked. The rest of his song came to mind, and he again began to sing quietly. 

“Then the ostler said to his tipsy cat the white horses of the moon  They neigh and chanp their silver bits but their master's been and drowned his wits  And the Sun'll be rising soon  
So the cat on his fiddle played hay-diddle-diddle, a jig that would wake the dead  He squeaked and he sawed and he quickened the tune while the landlord shook the Man in the moon  "It's after three!" he said  
They rolled the Man in the Moon slowly up the hill and bundled him into the Moon  While his horses galloped up in the rear and the cow came capering like a deer  And a dish ran up with the spoon  
Now quicker the fiddle went deedle-dum-diddle the dog began to roar  The cow and the horses stood on their heads the guests all bounded from their beds  and danced upon the floor  
With a ping and a pang the fiddle-strings broke! the cow jumped over the Moon  And the little dog laughed to see such fun and the Saturday dish went off at a run  With the silver Sunday spoon  
The round Moon rolled behind thehill as the Sun raised up her head  She hardly believed her fiery eyes for though it was day to her surprise  They all went back to bed” he sang, the song finishing. 

He had always wondered what a fiddle sounded like, but imagined it had gone quite well with his song. Or at least he hoped so. His mother had described it to him as full, lively, vibrant, and clear. She had said that it could be soft and sweet or fast and brash, and the sound he imagined went well with his song indeed. He always wished he could hear someone else sing it, in a better voice than his, but alas that was nothing but a hopeful dream. 

As he reached the hut he set the fish down inside, going to check on the fruit where it was hanging. It would take more than a day to dry it, but with the clouds moving ever closer he decided to bring it inside for safe keeping. It wouldn’t do to have them get wet and be ruined, and that would be the end of that. He hung the fruit back up inside, and covered the fish bucket with leaves to keep the majority of the rain water out. It was a process he knew well, and he hoped the others could figure it out on their own. It would be rather useless for them to have stolen so much food, only to let it be ruined. But that was hardly his problem, he thought as he got back to work. There wasn’t much left for him to do with his day, so he decided a meal and a nap would do him no harm. 

He was in the midst of cooking when the rain started, and he was glad that he had gotten done with his chores early. This way he could sit indoors and not get wet in the slightest. His fire kept him rather warm, and he had checked the roof after the last storm. He was in for another quiet and comfortable night. 

Or it was a rather quiet and comfortable night, for all of an hour. And then the shouting began to start. It was loud, angry, and also frightened, and Bilbo began to wonder what was happening at their camp. It couldn’t be the rain that they were so afraid of, and he could hardly think of anything that should, until he heard the high pitched yowl that came from the same direction. So they had met Lobelia. He shook his head and grabbed his spear before heading outside. “So much for a dry night” he muttered ruefully as he took off towards their camp. The shouting and growling got steadily louder as he ran, and he was soon upon them. The Crew stood facing Lobelia, in various defensive stances, but without their weapons they would be powerless. Thorin stood in the front, a claw gash cutting across his chest. From where Bilbo stood it didn’t look to deep, but he’d have to tend to it once this was dealt with. 

“Hey! Lobelia, you silly old cat! Leave them be, you have plenty to eat already, don’t be greedy!” he shouted at the cat, getting her attention. She turned to him inquisitively, and Bilbo took a deep breathe. He nudged the spear in her direction, and she danced a couple steps backwards. He moved forward more quickly, spear point moving quicker and quicker towards her, and soon she was growling at him. He took another deep breathe before jabbing at her paws, and she took off into the woods. He watched her go, careful to make sure the cat was really gone, before turning back to the crew. 

“Well, that was silly. Could’ve been avoided entirely if you’d have built yourself some shelter. Had a fire and she’d have stayed right away. But look at that, you’re all soaked through as it is. Come with me, come with me.” he said, counting them over to make sure everyone was there. Gandalf seemed to be the only one unaffected by these events, and also apparently completely dry. Bilbo filed this information away for later, before ushering them back towards his hut. He sighed in exasperation when Thorin made to stay where he was, but Dwalin pushed the obstinate man towards the hut. It would be completely absurd for Thorin to bleed out in the rain, out of sheer stubbornness. 

In the light of his house, they looked even more worse for wear. Both Fili and Kili were covered in mud, and everyone was shivering(except for the completely dry Gandalf). He clucked his tongue, ushering all of them to sit while he stoked the fire. It would take quite a while for them to warm, but at least they were out of the rain and near a fire. Once that was tended to, he turned to face the still bleeding Thorin. He was more pale than he had been, a grimace of pain evident on his face despite his efforts to hide it. “Will you let me help you with that?” he asked, and the Captain slowly nodded. With that nod of approval, Bilbo quickly went to work. “I need one of you to go get me strips of cloth from the sail thats in the lagoon.” he said, to no one in particular, but it was Fili and Kili who volunteered first.

“We’ll go!” they said in unison, and Bilbo didn’t think he would ever get used to that. 

It was Gandalf who intervened next, standing slowly. “Now now boys, I’ll go. It wouldn’t do for you to catch your deaths.” he said, before disappearing out the door. The boys in question huffed, but continued to shiver before scooting closer to the fire. By now Bilbo had already gathered his herbs, and was getting to work on mashing them together. Oin looked intrigued by his work, and moved closer towards him. He had noticed that Oin didn’t say much, so just made more open movements so that Oin could see better. He occasionally caught glimpses of Oin nodding as he worked, and took that to be a good sign. It was a long few minutes before Gandalf returned, with a surprisingly dry bundle of fabric. Bilbo decided to question him on that later, but stayed silent as he took the strips. 

He looked back at Thorin, who's look of pain seemed to be becoming deeper and deeper, and he resolved to move faster. He quickly lifted the shirt up to get a better look at the wound, and saw that it was deeper than he had previously thought. He tutted again, getting a damp cloth in order to clean the wound. Thorin winced as he began his work in cleaning, but he just shook his head. “It’s going to hurt quite a lot, but there’s nothing I can do about it. You’ve gotta hold still or it’s going to hurt worse.” he instructed, getting back to his cleaning. 

He heard Thorin's knuckles crack and his teeth grind, but other than that he didn’t move a smidge. Bilbo made quick work of it, before moving on the the herbs. “This will keep you from getting an infection, and might burn for a little bit.” he said, and then promptly slathered it on. Thorin made a quick intake of breathe, and Bilbo felt bad for the fellow. He had been trying to protect his crew from quite a dangerous animal, and he had to commend the fellow for that. But any words he had to say were unsaid as he began to wrap the makeshift bandages around the wound. “And these will help to stop the bleeding. You should be right as rain in a couple of days, but you’ll have to change the herbs and the bandages every once in a while. He stated, patting the man once on the knee before quickly retreating. Someone who nearly died had no right to look as distinguished as this man did, and it was sort of off-putting. He shook his head to dispell these thoughts. 

“I reckon I should feed you, since you’ll be staying here the night.” he said finally, looking around the room full of people. They all looked gratefully towards him, and he couldn’t find it in himself to resent them. And with that he got to work. It was a long while before anyone spoke, and he was surprised to find that it was Ori.

“Mr. Bilbo, do you think you could sing that song? I’m curious about it, never heard it before.” Ori said timidly from his spot by Dwalin.

“Oh, umm, yes, I suppose I could. That is, if the others don’t mind.” he said, looking around.

“I’m always up for a good song!” Bofur said, Bombur and Bifur nodding in agreement. Fili and Kili expressed their interest in twin grins and a shout of interest. Gloin nodded along with Dori and Nori, and soon it was all but Thorin and Oin who had responded. Thorin seemed to be half asleep where he sat, so Bilbo paid him no mind. “Alright, a song it is. As long as you’ll teach me a song of yours after. I’ve begun to be tired of the same old song I know.” he said, and they nodded. 

“There is an Inn a merry old inn beneath an old grey hill  
And there they brew a beer so brown that the man in the moon himself came down   
One night to drink his fill  
The ostler has a tipsy cat that plays a five string fiddle  And up and down he runs his bow now squeaking high now purring low  Now sawing in the middle  
The landlord keeps a little dog that is mighty fond of jokes  When there's good cheer among the guests he cocks an ear at all the jests  And laughs until he chokes  
They also keep a hornéd cow as proud as any queen  But music turns her head like ale and makes her wave her tufted tail  And dance upon the green  
And O! the rows of silver dishes and the store of silver spoons!  For Sunday there's a special pair and these they polish up with care  On Saturday afternoons  
The Man in the Moon was drinking deep and the cat began to wail  A dish and a spoon on the table danced the cow in the garden madly pranced  And the little dog chased his tail  
The Man in the Moon took another mug and then rolled beneath his chair  And there he dozed and dreamed of ale till in the sky the stars were pale  And dawn was in the air  
Then the ostler said to his tipsy cat the white horses of the moon  They neigh and champ their silver bits but their master's been and drowned his wits  And the Sun'll be rising soon  
So the cat on his fiddle played hay-diddle-diddle, a jig that would wake the dead  He squeaked and he sawed and he quickened the tune while the landlord shook the Man in the moon  "It's after three!" he said  
They rolled the Man in the Moon slowly up the hill and bundled him into the Moon  While his horses galloped up in the rear and the cow came capering like a deer  And a dish ran up with the spoon  
Now quicker the fiddle went deedle-dum-diddle the dog began to roar  The cow and the horses stood on their heads the guests all bounded from their beds  and danced upon the floor  
With a ping and a pang the fiddle-strings broke! the cow jumped over the Moon  And the little dog laughed to see such fun and the Saturday dish went off at a run  With the silver Sunday spoon  
The round Moon rolled behind thehill as the Sun raised up her head  She hardly believed her fiery eyes for though it was day to her surprise 

They all went back to bed” he sang, his voice starting timid until he got used to the song. He found he was nervous singing to these strangers, but paid no mind to it. When he was done they clapped with various amounts of enthusiasm, Bofur being the most enthusiastic. Even Thorin looked intrigued, but Bilbo decided to pay no mind to that either.

“That is quite a fun jig, where in the world did you hear it?” Bofur exclaimed, clapping Bilbo on the back with enough force to almost throw him into the fire.

“I made it up. I’ve had quite a bit of time on my hands, and my mother used to tell me all about music. Sadly, none of us could carry a tune ourselves. But rhyme is something I use to keep the time, no pun intended.” he said, smiling slightly at the enthusiastic man. 

“I quite like it, if only we had instruments to put it to. Once we get back to the mainland we’ll have to pick up some instruments, make it into real music.” he said, before a wide yawn stopped his speech. “In other news, I’m knackered. Bed time for me, I think.” And with that he plopped down back on the floor. The fire was still high, and Bilbo had nothing left to do, so he himself curled up and went to sleep as well. It had been a long day, but he hoped that tommorrow would be less eventful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which you discover that I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing, and that although I enjoy writing righteously angry Bilbo, I'm not very good at it. And Dwalin is so out of character but I don't know how to fix it. I like to pretend that when Ori's around he's less……gruff


	3. A Short Respite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shelter building, team bonding, and FEELINGS. Bilbo also begins to learn more about the people he's sheltering and why they've been traveling.

The next day was not uneventful, not in the slightest. It started early, much earlier than Bilbo would have liked, but Fili and Kili were insistent in their waking. Apparently it was time to get to work on shelters, and they needed his help to do it. He was glad they had learned from their previous mistake, but he was not glad to be up so early and thinking, and especially not around such grumpy company.

“What I wouldn’t give for a good hammer and a few nails. Could have this up in no time.” Fili grumbled, and Kili shrugged blearily, half tangled in some sort of netting from the washed up pieces of ship. 

“You don’t need any of those things to build a hut, don’t be silly.” Bilbo said, gathering branches from the surrounding trees. He had a quickly growing pile of large branches piling before him, with a separate pile of large fronds just a few steps away. None of the crew seemed to know what he was doing, but soon he had nodded in satisfaction at his pile. He then disappeared up a tree, climbing quicker than any of them expected that he would. They stared up in bewilderment, and were soon startled by a pile of vines crashing to the ground. “It would take much to long to build something like mine, especially during storm season, so a few smaller little things will have to do. Though you lot are quite a bit taller than I am, so it might not be quite so comfortable, it’ll keep the rain off just as well.” he said, climbing quickly down from the tree and landing on the ground. He set them to work chopping down the tall, thin trees that grew around the lagoon, creating long poles that he would use as the base. Others were set to digging small holes to anchor everything, while the rest were set out to gather food. It was a rather efficient operation, and Bilbo was proud to have gotten it going. 

Midday found them with the skeletons of two huts taking shape, each large enough for three people, one for Bifur, Bofur and Bombur, and one for Ori, Dori, and Nori. Their lunch break was cheerful and loud, and Bilbo was sure that the animals of the island were scared out of their wits by now. But they’d get over it eventually, or these strange fellows would learn to quiet down. He thought the former was more likely to happen. 

It wasn’t until they were sitting around a fire, eating and laughing and joking together, that Bilbo realized that he knew nothing about these people. For all he knew they could be pirates, or slavers, or any number of horrible things, and dread began to rise in Bilbo’s chest. He looked around and noticed how intimidating each and every one of them were. They could be escaped convicts, mercenaries, any of the villains and scoundrels his mother had told him of in her stories. Waiting for their chance to get rid of him, once he had finished helping them survive this island. He held back a gasp on someone clapped him on the shoulder, and cowering as he came face to face with Fili and Kili, one on each side of him as he looked around frantically. 

“What’s wrong Mr. Boggins?” they asked, and Bilbo squeaked.

“Oh, nothing, nothing at all, everythings fine, go back to what you were doing.” he stuttered out, and the two looked even more concerned and confused. 

“Somethings obviously wrong, what’s got you so spooked?” they asked again, and this time Bilbo snapped. 

“I have NO IDEA who you people are, you could be any number of horrible hooligans and I don’t know how you ended up here, what you were doing, and what you’re going to do to me once I’m done helping you actually survive this island!!!” he shouted, and the entire camp went still and quiet around him. He immediately froze, realizing his mistake, and then bolted. Shouting started up behind him, and he ran faster in his panic. 

He was half way across the island when they caught up with him, and by then he had given up running. It was a small island, and there were so many of them that no matter how long he hid they would find him. Ori was the first to spot him, and the entire crew soon stood before him where he sat, perched on a rock and staring blankly at them. Fili, Kili, and Ori looked distressed, Bofur and Bombur slightly disturbed, Oin and Bifur confused, while Dwalin, Gloin and Thorin stood stony faced. Bilbo noticed now that Gandalf was nowhere to be found. 

“Mr Boggins, do you really think we could be pirates?”  
“Or murderers?” the two brothers asked, and Bilbo was still over the edge.

“How am I to know that you aren’t? I mean look at you, big and mysterious and intimidating! Your Captain looks like he’s going to bight my head off if I sneeze in the wrong direction! I know nothing about you lot!” he exclaimed, and then immediately shrank back. The crestfallen look on the boys faces made him pause for a moment, but Thorin stepping forward brought him back to his shrinking position.

“I believe this is my fault, Master Baggins, for not trusting you with our story.” he said grimly, leaning now heavily against the rocks that rose from the ground. The movements seemed to have aggravated his wounds, and Bilbo began to feel a bit of doubt. “I can assure you we are nothing of what you’re thinking of, no pirates or vagabonds here.” Thorin continued, and Bilbo eyed him warily. He could see Fili and Kili nodding vigorously, Dwalin putting a comforting hand on Ori’s shoulder, and Bofur's reassuring smile. 

“Then who are you?” he half whispered, and they all collectively relaxed. 

“It’s a long story, Master Baggins, one better told in a more comfortable place, I imagine.”Thorin responded, and Bilbo was reminded of how bad his wounds had actually been. He stood up sheepishly, the crew watching him to make sure he wouldn’t take off again, and they headed back to the camp. 

Once they were all situated, Thorin began his story. “All of us, besides Gandalf, come from a place called Erebor, a country in the Scandinavian region of the world. In the past we have been leading in the new industries, with our resources and access to raw materials. It was a prosperous place, and then the War started. World War was not something we ever expected, and we were unprepared, even with our military. The King was usurped by enemy forces, a task force called S.M.A.U.G, and the native people thrown out of their own country. Our people had become nomads, beggars, hard laborers, demeaned workers, no longer the prized craftsmen we once were. We made efforts to retake our homeland, but to no avail. We lost our King at the hands of Azog, and his crew of the Defiler, as well as my brother Frerin in an attempt to get a foothold on our homeland. The crown prince was lost to madness, and the rest of us were left scattered and more broken than ever before.” With that Thorin paused with a sigh, looking around at his stony faced crew and then back at Bilbo. “We are just a band of people trying to retake our home, Master Baggins.” he finished eloquently, and Bilbo was taken aback by the earnestness on his face. 

Bilbo began to feel guilty at his outburst, and with the feeling of a threat gone he deflated, relaxing into his seat on the ground. These people might be loud and intimidating but they weren’t villains from his mothers tales. He looked at the Captain who he had previously seen as gruff and angry, but now he could see that he was tired and sad. Oh how aweful he had been, accusing them of being the very scoundrels they were fighting to take their home from! He sighed deeply, looking around once more before nodding his head in decision. 

“Alright then, alright. There’s not much that I can do, but until you can get back on your journey then my home is yours.” he said quietly, and Thorin nodded his head in grim acknowledgment.

“Thank you master Baggins, that is more than we could ask for.” he said, and then suddenly Fili and Kili were upon them, wrapping Bilbo in a hug.

“Thank you Mister Boggins”  
“You won’t regret it”  
“Maybe you can come with us when we leave”  
“Yeah Kee that’s a great idea”

Bilbo was quickly overwhelmed by their chattering, and Thorin gave the boys a fond yet admonishing look. “Don’t overwhelm the poor man, you’re going to crush him.” he said, and the boys loosened their hold, instead draping arms around Bilbos shoulders and grinning impishly at Thorin.

“Sorry Uncle”  
“Yeah, sorry you’re jealous that we hugged him instead of you”  
“Good one Fee” they continued to chatter as they steered Bilbo towards the work in progress huts.

Despite the long diversion they still had a few hours of light left and Bilbo planned to put that time to good use. With quick bits of lashing and tying he had multiple fronds tied together tightly, and began to lean them against the hut and ready to go.

“With the rain coming we should have the roofs ready before the walls. Lobelia shouldn’t bother you for at least a while, should be plenty of time to get the walls up and then that cat won’t be by at all. Unless you keep your food out in the open, then you’ll be in for a few visits. She a sweet thing if you leave her by but tempt her with food and she can tear down your walls in a jiff, not a problem for her the vicious old thing.” he said as he worked, and the others soon followed his example, lashing the branches and fronds together and the roof of one hut quickly formed. 

Many of them were humming and singing as they worked, songs that Bilbo was far from familiar with, and the cacophony of different songs made for a fun background to the building. 

For someone who had lived most of his life in complete silence besides the natural noises of the sea and forest, he was quickly becoming used to the constant background of human noise. The humming, the talking, the shuffling of feet and the laughter were all so foreign to his ears, so loud, and yet such a welcome change to the life he hadn’t known he had become bored of. These people had lived such adventurous lives, and he was curious to learn more. Despite how different they seemed, they all fit together tossing things back and forth, telling jokes and stories. Such a wide variety of people was so strange and yet Bilbo could feel himself slowly being sucked into the fray, as Fili and Kili tossed bunches of fronds up at him and Bofur tried to teach him some sort of song. It was fun and it was strange, and he could feel that loneliness he had felt since his parents death keenly, but slowly start to dull around the edges, softening within their company. 

He snapped out of these thoughts as a branch flew past his hands, going straight over where he sat and hitting Thorin squarely in the face. Thorin picked it up from where it sat in his lap, looking completely unimpressed and Bilbo tried in vain to hold back a laugh as he climbed down from the newly forming roof. “You’ve got something caught in your beard, Captain.” he said, laughing at how ridiculous the man looked with leaves stuck in his beard and hair.

The effort of trying not to laugh had him caught completely off guard when Thorin launched the branch back at him, knocking him back a step from where he now stood. He rolled his eyes, picking the branch up and tossing it up to Kili, who had taken his spot on the roof. 

The sun was lowering in the sky, and he figured it was time to go back to his hut and make himself dinner. “It’s getting a bit late. I trust you lot have all the provisions you need. I have my own chores I must finish for the day, I’m sure some of you will be by later.” he said, nodding to the rest of the crew and heading back to his own home. He could still hear smatterings of sound as he walked, still picking leaves out of his hair. 

Despite the earlier fright, he was getting used to being around people, and the relative silence that greeted him was a bit of a shocking difference. His hut felt strangely large and empty, but he dispelled those thoughts by getting to work. He checked back on the fruit he had set to dry, and the fish he had set in the wide container where they still swam. Everything remained intact, and with no clouds on the horizon he was sure that tomorrow would be another clear and stormless day. His thoughts turned back to the work they had left to do on their huts, eight walls left and then thalmost half of the crew would be more comfortably and safely housed. More huts on his island, for people who didn’t plan on being around for very long at all. For people who would probably never be able to find their way back. Would he just host stranger after stranger as they found their way to his island, and help them on their way as they came and went? The chances of more people washing up alive was slim, but so had the original chance so anything was possible. Even after such a short time, Bilbo couldn’t imagine what he would do in the quiet once they were gone. But he couldn’t leave, the island where the memories of his parents lived. He had no where else to go either, no idea how actual society would be or how to live in it. The novelty of the idea of leaving with them was charming, but what would he do? No, staying was his best and only option, and that is what he would do. Plus, what was the point of an island with a home on it if there was no one to live there? He couldn’t possibly leave, he decided, and that was that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that was really lame and it seemed sort of forced to me, I don't know I'll try to do better next time. Also I hope the next one is longer because this is short and I'm sorry

**Author's Note:**

> I've modeled Bilbo's island after the São Miguel Island, also known as The Green Island. It is actually a very populous island, as far as archipelagos go, and I think its a rather beautiful place. But unlike Sao Miguel Island, it is much farther out to sea and uncharted on any known map. If you've got any questions about anything in this story, or ideas on what should happen in future chapter, please feel free to comment!


End file.
